a light
goes on when
she opens
her mouth.
a breath of
frosty air
floats out.
she keeps
the greens in
her crisper,
the ice cubes
in her head,
the left overs
on the middle
shelf,
wrapped
in foil with
nothing fresh
to share.
Monday, December 9, 2013
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment